


Christmas by Candlelight

by punk_rock_yuppie



Category: Spider-Man (Video Games 2018-2020)
Genre: Banter, Christmas, Domesticity, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Implied Marriage Proposal, M/M, Post-Game, Romance, gift-giving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punk_rock_yuppie/pseuds/punk_rock_yuppie
Summary: Miles and Ganke spend Christmas in their new apartment—in the dark.
Relationships: Ganke Lee/Miles Morales
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Christmas by Candlelight

**Author's Note:**

> while replaying the game for the fourth time, i was really struck by when ganke says "christmas by candlelight?" after the power goes out. decided i had to write something ultra soft and sweet about it!
> 
> as always, big thanks to han for the beta!

It’s weird not spending Christmas with his mom, but one look across the room at Ganke settles any anxiety bubbling in Miles’ chest. He knows his mom is safe and happy spending Christmas with Gloria and Steff and Uncle Aaron; he also knows the storm is too bad to even think of trekking up to Harlem. As he watches Ganke give the albondigas soup a stir, Miles feels any residual sadness for what he’s missing dissipate. Instead, he crosses the room from their tree over to the tiny kitchen where Ganke stands, surrounded by pots and pans.

“You’re worse than Ma,” Miles murmurs as he slides his arms around Ganke’s waist. “Cooking like you’re gonna feed an army.”

“I’ve seen you eat,” Ganke says as he leans into the touch. “You pretty much _are_ an army.” 

Miles can’t argue with that, wouldn’t even if he wanted to. The food smells divine and everything has an extra sheen of excitement since it’s his and Ganke’s first Christmas in their own apartment. 

Sure, the apartment is small and kind of dingy, and it costs way too much—Miles has a much better appreciation for Peter’s perpetual homelessness, these days—but it’s _theirs_. Both their names are on the lease, they each have their own side of the bed, they fight over space in the bathroom every morning when they get ready. Miles’ record player and his dad’s records take up a corner in the living room and in the other corner is Ganke’s desk with his gaming setup, the walls around it covered in notes for his latest game. 

“Dinner on the floor, or in bed?” Ganke asks as he places the lid back on the soup. They still don’t have a couch yet, haven’t found one that’ll fit in their living room and still leave them room to walk around. They do have a nice rug in the middle of the living room, though, one that’s soft and plush. 

“Floor is good,” Miles says. He places a final kiss to Ganke’s neck before pulling away. “I’ll grab some pillows and a blanket, we can put on a movie or something.” 

“Sounds good,” Ganke replies, and that’s when the power goes out. There’s enough light outside from the moon to not leave them in total pitch blackness, but it still takes Miles’ eyes a second to adjust. It takes Ganke even longer. “Well, shit.” Ganke looks around and crosses his arms over his chest. 

“I can climb out and see if there’s a generator to jumpstart,” Miles offers, bioelectricity already sparking at his fingertips. The light is enough to show Ganke’s fond smile. 

“No, it’s okay. It’s kind of...cozy.” Ganke moves out of the kitchen and hurries down the hall to their bedroom closet. He digs around for a moment before coming back to Miles, two candles in each hand. “Christmas by candlelight,” he says. 

For a moment, Miles is blasted back to a couple years ago, and Christmas with Phin. Before Miles’ whole world got thrown upside down for a second time, after getting bit. He snaps out of the brief reverie, pushing the memory away, and nods. “Cute,” he says. “You wanna get the food, I’ll get the candles set up? And I’ll grab the pillows and blanket.”

“Perfect.” Ganke leans in and kisses Miles as he passes the candles over. 

They move around each other swiftly. Ganke slips back into the kitchen and even though the space is still new to them, he moves with relative ease. Miles listens to the soft _clang_ of bowls hitting the counter, followed by plates and silverware. Meanwhile Miles can’t find the matches so he sparks up his fingers instead, watches as a bioelectric spark dances from his fingertips to the wick of one candle instead. Thankfully, it catches and Miles uses that candle to light the rest. He places them carefully around the living room to give them as much light as possible. 

Ganke already has all the food set up on the rug by the time Miles comes out with the pillows and blankets. Ganke helps him get them set up: pillows to cushion their asses and the blanket drawn over their laps for warmth. They huddle close together, sides pressed up against each other, and reach for the food. It’s a little clumsy to do in the dark, but it’s kind of romantic too. 

“This is kind of nice,” Ganke says as he brings his bowl of albondiga soup to his chest, blowing on a spoonful to cool it down. “Quirky.”

Miles snorts as he reaches for a taquito—frozen, not homemade, but still tasty. “It’s definitely a story to tell.” 

Ganke smiles into his soup. “Should you check on your mom?” 

Miles glances back at the kitchen where he left his phone. It hasn’t gone off yet, so he shrugs. “I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her in a bit to say goodnight, but I should probably save my battery.”

Ganke snorts. “Like you aren’t a walking battery.” 

“I feel like I should remind you that half the time I try to charge a phone, I fry it.” Miles has gone through a _lot_ of phones over the years. It works more often than not but it’s definitely not an exact science.

“You’ll get the hang of it eventually.” 

Miles doesn’t have a teasing response. Instead, he’s content to eat stuff his face. He and Ganke end up fighting over the last dumpling, but Miles lets him have it after a quick, playful shoving match. They clear all the plates between them, although Miles feels full enough to burst. 

“I gotta lay down,” he announces as he carefully lowers himself onto his back. Ganke joins him after a few seconds. “That was so good.”

“We still have to do presents, too,” Ganke says around a yawn. “But I don’t think I can stand.”

Miles laughs and rolls to tuck himself against Ganke’s side. “Presents can wait, it’s still pretty early. Who knows, maybe the power will come back on by then.” 

“I dunno, I kind of like it better this way. I miss the tree, but it’s...kind of special, I guess?” 

Miles could be snarky in his reply—how _special_ is it that their building has faulty wiring—but he can’t find it in himself. He presses his face against Ganke’s shoulder and sighs contentedly. “Any Christmas with you is special.”

Ganke laughs softly but it’s not nearly as teasing as it could be. “You’re such a sap.” Even so, he turns and presses a kiss to the crown of Miles’ head. 

They lay there for a while, content to cuddle and digest their food. Ganke doesn’t fall asleep but he does hum, a soft tune with no real rhyme or reason. It’s soothing, even with the sounds of the city outside. Miles dozes a little bit, lulled to sleep by the food baby percolating in his gut. Eventually he feels less full, less lethargic, and he slowly levers himself to sit up straight. 

“Presents?” Ganke asks.

“Presents.” Miles stands and grabs the two gifts from under the tree; they only did one gift each this year. They’d agreed that with the cost of moving into their own place, there wasn’t a need to go too crazy with the gifts. He drops to the floor next to Ganke again and passes a gift over. “At the same time?” 

Ganke nods and then he’s tearing into the wrapping paper. Despite what he said, Miles can’t help but watch his boyfriend rip at the shiny blue paper with abandon. Ganke wastes no time tugging at the tape that’s keeping the box sealed and then he’s flipping the flaps open to reveal the actual gift. “A photo album?” 

Miles is grateful for the low lighting of the candles and how it hides some of his blush. “Now that we’ve got our own place, I thought it’d be cool to keep track of the memories we make.”

Ganke makes a wounded little noise, something suspiciously close to a whimper. When he looks up, his eyes are a little wet. “Dude,” he says with a voice full of emotion and incredulity. “This is so awesome.”

Miles shrugs bashfully. “Ma used to do it, with _abuelita_ and with my dad. I’ve always thought it was so cool to be able to look back even on simple stuff. I already got some pictures to put in there, from when we moved in.”

“I _knew_ you were taking pictures!” Ganke cries, voice still wet but now full of laughter. “I couldn’t figure out why you wanted pictures of me wrangling boxes of our stuff.” 

Miles snorts. “I just like pictures of you.”

Ganke smiles and leans in, Miles meeting him halfway for a chaste kiss. “This is really cool, Miles. I can’t wait to start putting it together.” He holds the photo album in his arms and then nods down at the present in Miles’ lap. “Your turn.” 

Miles unwraps his gift only slightly less crazed than Ganke was. It’s still a mess of wrapping paper and tape until he can open the little box. Inside it rests a flashdrive, simple and unassuming. Miles doesn’t even have a chance to ask before Ganke starts talking.

“It’s a mixtape,” he says in a rush. “Not an _actual_ tape, because I wanted you to be able to upload it into your suit, if you wanted. But it’s, uh, a custom mix. Made by me, for you.” Ganke’s blush is bright even under the glow of candlelight. Miles thinks he’s maybe never looked more beautiful, round cheeks red and dimpled. “Songs that make me think of you, or us. And, uh, maybe a song by me.”

It’s like there’s an audible record scratch in Miles’ brain. “Wait, you _made_ a song for me?” 

Ganke holds up his hands as if he can physically temper Miles’ expectations. “It’s nothing crazy, and it’s probably really rough, but yeah. Your uncle helped me figure it out, it took _forever_.” Ganke looks away, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “It doesn’t have words or anything but it’s...I dunno, it’s what I hear when I think of you, or see you, or…” Ganke gives a big, exaggerated shrug. “It’s you, to me.”

Miles sets the box aside delicately and then does the same with the photo album still in Ganke’s hands. Then he crawls into his boyfriend’s lap. He kisses Ganke hard and eager, eyes wet with unshed tears. They kiss feverishly enough that they don’t notice they’re tipping backwards until it’s too late. Ganke lands on his back with a soft _oof_ and Miles kisses him again as an apology. 

“That’s amazing,” Miles finally remembers to say. “I can’t believe you wrote a song for me. I’m so excited to listen.”

Ganke grins, biting his bottom lip. “Promise you’ll lie if you hate it?”

“There’s no way I could hate it.” Miles kisses him again and again; it’s all he wants to do, and it’s not like they have anything else to do anyway. “I love you, dude.”

“Love you too.” Ganke looks at him softly, made softer by the flickering candles on the shelf above them. 

Miles is reluctant to move but he knows it’s only a matter of time before one of them has a leg going numb. He slides out of Ganke’s lap long enough to tug the blanket up over them and settle against his side. He rests his head on Ganke’s chest and looks up at him. “You know,” he says softly, “I think this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had.” And that’s saying something because he’s had _a lot_ of good Christmases. It’s definitely the best since his dad died, at the very least. 

Ganke’s hand strokes along Miles’ side. “Wait till you see your birthday present.”

Miles sits up a little to narrow his eyes at his boyfriend. Ganke only shakes his head. 

“I’m not telling you what it is,” he says. Miles knew that was coming, but he still pouts. Ganke just pinches his side playfully. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”

Miles _hmphs_ as he lays back down on Ganke’s chest. He doesn’t mind waiting, not really. It’s only a couple weeks until his birthday, anyway. The harder part is not teasing Ganke in return, not about a birthday gift but about Miles’ plans for New Years. Part of Miles wants to go get the little black velvet box right now, dig it out of where it’s hidden at the bottom of his bedside table. He doesn’t, though. He just smiles to himself and presses a kiss to Ganke’s chest. 

Ganke will just have to wait and see, too. 

**Author's Note:**

> just a reminder that i've got a quiet little gamerverse server, you can hit me up on tumblr for an invite!


End file.
